Equivocal

       The first indication of rebellion sparked extreme consternation within the Government, and within several years a drug had been formulated. A drug, which entailed ultimate control - the complete dominance over the repressed. Each week, the natives of the city were issued with a supply of what the Government and the city officials named: 'The Cure.' Injected twice a day, morning and night, the citizens promptly became compliant.

       At first, it was believed to be a cure, but as years went by, the outcomes of the drug became more fervent. The effects also worsened with age; the average life expectancy dropped a horrifying thirty years. What the Government called "The Cure", the citizens called 'Equivocal.' There was no escape or no way out of its mysterious effects. Though their bodies objected, their subconscious' refused such an infraction. There are some, however, who manage to avoid the grieving reality of such destiny, those who are able to withstand it......and I, I have indeed resisted.

       Since Equivocal was first circulated, I have felt its attendance all throughout my body. However, my subconscious, unlike the beings around me, is immaculate. If uncovered, the repercussions for my crimes would be severe to a certain extent, yet I decided to continue.

       At my life's beginning, I had been designated and identified with a number, 2416, a number that I would carry with me to the grave. This number determined everything; where I would be trained and what my profession would be, amongst a vast collection of jobs I would perform for the Government throughout my time here. This number brought me to my profession in chemistry. And with that, it was my duty, as a native to the city, to concoct each batch of Equivocal. The drug that in turn, gave me prerogative. As I prepare my own dosage, I have taken it upon myself since a young age to create a drug that despite its aroma and appearance is not, in fact Equivocal.

The creation of such a mechanism has put the task into my own hands to create a cure, to 'the Cure.' Through the stormy night I went, scuttling amongst the slackening Guard, and to my outpost in a blockhouse just east of my city. As I did every evening, I set about to work. The routine of my life became so that, sometimes I dreamt of being under the influence of the drug I was attempting to defeat, so that I would be given a reason to terminate my development.

Although I struggled as years subsided into decades, and each day became fainter than the last, I knew that such a task, such an act of vengeance against the Government, would leave me as the people's liberator. As the world's savior.

By the time I had completed the task I had arranged for myself, my skin had lost its youthfulness, and my hair had turned a deep grey. Some terminal affliction brought on by the fumes of the Equivocal, slowed my progress, yet my strategy had worked. Just like every other Sunday night, I loaded the Equivocal into the rear of the delivery trucks. Little did the Government, or their officials for that matter know, that the next dose of Equivocal that the Citizens of the City took, would be their last. My drug would release them from their automaton devotion to the Government, and allow me, 2416, to lead an insurrection. It was everything that the Government had feared, and it was everything that I longed for.

That night my home, so deprived of my presence for years, welcomed me back. Stepping through the door, I crossed the room to my derelict bed. I sunk into the mattress and rolled over. I smiled to myself as I did, my mind drifting into deep fathomless thoughts of my imagination, away from this fading world. I awoke at dawn, and ignoring my old body's protests I walked out into the streets of the city. I remember reaching an inner city office block and ascending its concrete staircase. I walked two steps at a time, my mind numb with the beautiful atrocity I had just committed. I reached the final flight of stairs, my lungs inadequately thrashing within my chest as I took those last few steps and walked out onto the roof of the building. I stumbled towards the edge of the building where I gazed out across the dying cityscape around me.

I checked my watch: 6:02. The sunlight had reached the cold concrete and as I sat on the ledge, the clock hands brought me closer to the moment I had been waiting for. The project was my life, and now I could finally watch my work unfold. At seven o'clock, I stood up and looked around. The city was as silent as ever, the Government probably only just waking from their free sleep. Unaware... oblivious to their downfall which was so close at hand... Ten past seven brought with it the first signs of life in the streets. At quarter past, the screaming began. Screams of pain, screams of anger and agony. I watched from my ledge as the Citizens of the City flooded into the streets, like mutinous animals tearing towards the city's center. My pulse quickened. Something wasn't right...I crossed over to the other side of the building and peered down into the streets.

The natives ran without order, tearing at each other in the chaos. Every man, woman and child for themselves, in a deranged, demonic bloody frenzy. Little did I know at the time what the effect on the brain my new Equivocal would bring to these people. For so long their minds had been given order, given a purpose. Some of them had been taking the drug since the day they were born, the poisonous fluid crushing their veins and turning their minds to soup.

In just twelve minutes, I had turned everything around. Turned order to chaos. There was no turning back now. The revolution had begun, a revolution not just against the Government, but against humanity. Against me, the instigator. It was not the Government that had created this turmoil; it was not the Equivocal that had kept order over the people for the better part of a century... it was I, 2416, the last real human, who destroyed humanity.